


The Gilded Cage

by steampunkmagic



Series: Oswald and Smith Mysteries [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Noir, F/M, Mystery, New York City, whouffle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steampunkmagic/pseuds/steampunkmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noir AU. <br/>Detective Clara Oswald is hired to follow the man going by the name "the Doctor", but everything is not as it seems. What is he doing at the Gallifrey Club with the kingpin's girl Amy Pond and what is Clara's employer really after? On a search for answers she soon finds herself embroiled in a mess of mobsters, murder, and possibly romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: The Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based on the prompt from the whoufflelibrary on tumbler. I just couldn't resist doing noir detective fiction with Clara and the Doctor.

  


**The Gilded Cage**

**~An Oswald and Smith Mystery~**

 

 

**Part 1: The Job**

 

                Detective Clara Oswald was calling it quits.  The rent was due, the heat was off, and she needed a drink.  It was one of those weeks.  One of those months actually.  She'd tailed a dozen cheating husbands and had to inform a dozen wives that the reason their spouses were always late for dinner was because they were busy screwing their secretaries.   In fact, Clara had come to the conclusion that love was officially dead.   Especially in New York City.

                She was buttoning up her coat when there was a knock at the door.  A man's figure stood silhouetted in the frosted glass.   He hesitated a moment then turned the knob.  Old hinges squeaked as the door swung open.  A thin man in a in a tailored suit and fedora stepped into her office.  

                "Are you Miss Oswald?"

                Clara regarded him for a moment taking in her first impressions.  First impressions were always the best in determining a person's character.   The man was rich according to his clothes, intelligent according to his eyes, and a liar according to his smile.   Then again what man wasn't?

                "I'm _Detective_ Oswald." she said, sitting on the edge of her desk.  She didn't miss the way his eyes took in her pencil skirt and exposed legs.  "And who might you be?"

                "Mr. Saxson.  Harold Saxson.  I've heard tell you're one of the best PI's in the city." he said. "I'd like to hire your services."

                "They don't come cheap."

                "Money isn't an issue.  Whatever you ask I'm sure will be fair." Saxon said dismissively.  "I simply want you to follow someone and inform me of his actives."

                "This fella have a name?" Clara asked.  She would take the case regardless; she wanted the heat turned back on.  And if Saxon was willing to pay Clara wasn't going to turn him down. 

                "He goes by 'The Doctor'." Saxson pulled a photo from his inside pocket and handed it to Clara. 

                Leaning against a wall of what appeared to be a dressing room was a young man.  He didn't look at the camera but off into the distance, a contemplative expression on his face.   A handsome face, Clara thought objectively, if a bit unusual.  Angular features, prominent chin, and dark hair which flopped down into his eyes.   His shirtsleeves were rolled up and he wore a waistcoat and a bowtie of all ridiculous things.  Clara couldn't help a small smile.  He didn't look like a mobster despite the nickname.

                "Why do you want him followed?"

                "He stole something from me and I want to know where he's taking it." 

                Clara knew better than to ask what this Doctor had taken, it was obvious Saxon was going to keep a tight lid on things.  That was all swell.  She didn't need the details to tail the man.  Not that she enjoyed being kept in the dark, but clients were like that.  Everyone always had their own agenda.

                "Fine.  I'll take your case." Clara said.  

***

                The Gallifrey Club was the hottest joint in New York.  Every starlet, gangster, and politician had spent at least one evening knocking back drinks there.   This was where Clara found herself.  She'd followed the mysterious Doctor from the address Saxson had given her.   The man had left his house, made a call on a payphone, then came straight to the Gallifrey Club.   Luckily Clara kept a suitcase in her trunk for such emergencies.   She waltzed in wearing her best dress.  Red, skin tight, and floor length with a low neckline and a slit all the way up to her thigh.  Clara turned several heads as she made her way to the bar.  

                The place was crowded with the city's finest.   They laughed, and talked, and danced to the music of the big band on the stage.   Clara sipped her gin and tonic while scanning the room for her man.  At last she spotted him standing at a partition which led backstage.   Clara moved closer.  The Doctor glanced around then knocked three times on the wall.  A beautiful girl with fiery red hair peeked around the corner.   Her face broke into a huge grin when she spotted the Doctor.

                Clara recognized her instantly.  Amy Pond, the jewel of the Gallifrey Club, they called her the Songbird.  People came from all over to hear her sing.  A socialite and fashion icon, there wasn't a gossip column in the country that hadn't done an article on her.   Amy Pond was also rumored to be the girlfriend of the infamous kingpin known as "the Master".    This was certainly an interesting twist on things.

                Clara watched as the Doctor handed the girl an envelope.  Amy hugged it to her chest then gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and then quickly disappeared backstage.   They were clearly up to something.   Never slow on the uptake Clara suspected this was the real reason she'd been hired.  She needed to find out what was in that envelope. 

                Before Clara could come up with a game plan, the Doctor did something entirely unexpected.  He walked right up to her.  Sauntered more like.  The cheeky grin he wore only improved his looks in Clara's opinion.   But this wasn't a dime store novel and she didn't see how this was going to help her investigation any.

                "I figured if you're going to follow me all night I may as well ask you to dance." the Doctor said taking Clara's arm. 


	2. Part 2: The Double Cross

**Part 2: The Double-cross**

 

                "When did you make me?" Clara asked coolly.  Her face betrayed no emotion or surprise. 

                Now able to study the subject of her investigation up close, Clara took in all the details.   Clever and handsome.  Dangerous combination in her experience, but Clara was willing to play a little rush-and-roulette if it got her answers.

                 Keeping a firm, if surprising gentle, grip on her arm the Doctor led them onto the dance floor.  He clearly didn't want to hurt Clara, just prevent her from making a run for it.   Nothing about the man added up.   They fell into step with the music, each trying to calculate the other.  A ghost of something Clara hadn't felt in a long time ran through her as the Doctor placed his hand at the small of her back.  

                "This afternoon when I left my apartment.  You're good, I'll give you that, but I was expecting it." He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in Clara's ear, "And you do stand out a bit, Doll."

                She smirked, "My name certainly isn't 'Doll', it's Clara.    Or Detective Oswald to you. Your charms won't work on me, pal. "

                He laughed clearly enjoying their little game.  "But you find me charming, that's a start."

                Mentally berating herself, Clara still made no attempt to leave.  They were standing closer than the dance required.  Chests almost touching, she could feel the heat of his skin.  Perhaps her drink had been a little more gin and a little less tonic, Clara thought.  He had a dangerous allure which drew her in, but she wasn't the sort of dame to fall for a dimestore cowboy.  

                 "Do you know why you were sent after me?" the Doctor inquired, arching an eyebrow.

                "You stole something from my employer." She replied gauging his reaction.  

                The song ended and the crowd broke into applause.  All except Clara and the Doctor.   In their own frozen moment they didn't drop their embrace.  A shadow passed over his features as the Doctor's gray-blue eyes darkened.

                The crowd cheered again and the Doctor released her turning towards the stage.  "Stealing implies ownership." he said softly.

                Clara followed his gaze to watch as Amy Pond stepped into the spotlights.  Ethereal, shining like a diamond she mastered the stage.   With a flip of her fiery locks and a seductive smile the girl began to sing.    At that moment several things clicked into place.

                "It's _her_." Clara said, "You're taking her."  She should have known the Doctor was only turning on the charm as a distraction.     

                "I'm not doing anything; I'm just the middle man."

                Clara ignored how that statement improved her mood. "Explain." 

                "Aren't you just going to report this to your employer Mr. Saxon?  Though you might know him better as 'The Master'."  the Doctor challenged with a hint of amusement.

                Saxon was the Master?  She'd been taken in like a fool.  New York's biggest mob boss was using Clara as a pawn.   If Saxon thought he could get away with that, boy did he have another thing coming.   Not that she didn't still want his green.  

                "So the Master's moll is stepping out on him, eh?  And you're what in this scenario, the accomplice?"

                     The Doctor grinned, "Now you're getting it.  See, Amy isn't Saxon's girl; she has a fella back in her hometown.  Mr. Williams was going to follow her out to the city, but then everything went to hell.  Got a gig at here and since the moment he laid eyes on Amy, Saxon has been obsessed.  He owns the place, practically keeps her prisoner, and has his goons guard her day and night."

                Quite the sorted tale, Clara thought.  But if the Master had hired her then that meant he knew what was going on.  Perhaps she could do something about that.

                 "When is this great escape scheduled?"

                "Tonight, the moment she steps off that stage."

***

                Clara used the club's payphone to check in with Saxon.  The Doctor listened in smirking as she informed Saxon all about how he'd purchased a pair of one-way train tickets for tomorrow night.   The kingpin bought it.  Now all they had to do was wait.

                Slipping backstage the Doctor led Clara to Amy's dressing room.  They'd meet the girl there, then sneak out the back and to the car he had waiting.   This was where the photo she had of him was taken.  Saxon most likely searched the place and seized it.  It's what Clara would have done.  

                Bouquets of roses littered the room, gifts from the Songbird's admirers no doubt.  They rested on the small settee watching the clock.  Clara was acutely aware of the Doctor's presence next to her.   Turning to him their glazes locked.  He leaned forward and Clara realized the Doctor was going to kiss her.  It was all a bit faster than usual, but the chemistry was undeniable. 

                His lips were gentle, hesitant, and unsure of her reaction.  So Clara decided to take charge of the situation.  Entwining her arms around the Doctor's neck, she deepened the kiss.  Passions met he pulled her against him. 

                The door banged open and they broke apart.  Three men stood framed in the doorway, the Master and two of his goons. 

                "I'm sure this is all part of your investigation, Miss Oswald." he said impassively, "Take them upstairs."

               

 


	3. Part 3: The Conclusion

**Part 3: The Conclusion**

 

                Clara found herself tied to a chair by a man with a crew cut and a black leather jacket.  They were in a storage room above the club; the muffled sound of the band came up through the floor.  Saxon's thugs were a lot rougher with the Doctor; by the time they got him tied up he had a split lip and the makings of a black eye. 

                A side door opened and Amy Pond was dragged in.  For a society gal she was putting up a good fight, but froze when the Master press his .38 special against her ribs.  This whole case had gone to hell in a hand-basket.

                "I hear you were trying to leave me darling, is that right?" Saxson crooned running his hand over Amy's cheek.  The girl was shaking violently and refused to look at him.  "After everything I've done for you.  I made you a star."

                "Just let the girls go, Saxon." the Doctor said. 

                The Master shoved Amy back into the grip of the man who drug her in.  Straightening his suit he marched forward to glare at his hostages.  "Why if it isn't the man himself, Officer John Smith, a.k.a. _'The Doctor_ '.  I've got eyes and ears everywhere even the NYPD.  I've known about you pathetic undercover operation for months, I even know who your informants are.   That simpering blonde cigarette girl and her bartender boyfriend.  But don't worry I'll deal with them later."

                "Then you know that this joint will be crawling with the city's finest if you bump us off.  And that's bad for business."

                Saxon smiled, "Only if they find a body." He turned to leer at Clara who eyed him defiantly, "It's too bad Miss Oswald you didn't need to get hurt, but it seems you let your heart get the better of you.  Well, what can you expect from a woman?" 

                Clara didn't react though she was dying to sock him in the kisser.   Saxon needed to think she was beaten.  Men had a habit of underestimating her; believed she was a little damsel in distress trying to play with the big boys.   It often worked to her advantage.  Like how the idiot who tied her up didn't bother to check the knots.   Big mistake. 

                "Take care of them and make it clean.  I don't want anything left for the coppers to find." Saxson said.  He grabbed Amy pressing the gun into her back.  "Now we're just going to stroll on out of this joint and if you try anything your dead, got that?"

                The moment they left the room the three thugs turned on Clara and John.   It was clear they were going to enjoy following orders.  The ugliest of the three seized the back of Clara's neck looming over her.  His lecherous grin sent shivers down her spine.

                "Seems a shame to waste something so pretty, don't it boys?" He leered, running his thumb across her lip.  

                "Don't touch her!" John yelled struggling against his bonds. 

                The men laughed.  Stupid and cruel.

                "You know what pal?" the ugly one said, "I think we're gonna have some fun with your girl, here, and you're gonna watch." 

                Clara could hear John cursing and screaming.  The large man crushed his mouth to hers, bruising her lips.  Fighting down panic she continued to work her arms free.  Rough callused hands pushed up the fabric of her dress.  The others were laughing.  Clara felt sick.  The man began undoing his belt buckle. 

                Clara slammed her head forward cracking into the man's skull.  He lurched backwards in pain as she ripped her hands free.  Before anyone else could react she pulled his gun from its holster.  

                "Touch me again and I put a bullet through your brain."

                Without taking her aim off the goons Clara untied her legs and moved over to help John.  The gangsters didn't seem to know what to do.  Clearly they never thought a woman could get the drop on them.  She untied John and he quickly removed the rest of their weapons. 

                "Are you alright?" he asked while binding the men with their own rope. 

                "Fine." Clara said.   It was true, though if she let herself think about what almost happened Clara wouldn't be.   "We need to hurry."

                "If I know Amy they won't have gotten far."

                They raced down the stairs.   Saxon would take Amy out the back, he wouldn't risk a scene.  Shoving past a crowd of startled waiters Clara and John crashed through the kitchen.   The door to the back alley was just ahead of them.   Keeping her gun drawn Clara slammed the door open.  John was right behind her.

                Saxon was forcing Amy into a car at the end of the alley.  They were just visible in the yellow streetlights and the steam coming from the vents and manhole covers.   The girl continued to struggle.

                "Saxon!" John shouted, "Give it up. I'm placing you under arrest."

                The Master spun around, panic in his eyes.  He was beyond reason.  Raising his Smith and Weston he fired wildly.  Amy screamed throwing herself to the ground.  On instinct Clara pulled the trigger of her stolen weapon.  The sound was deafening.  

                Saxon froze in shock.   He glanced down to watch as red bloomed across his white shirt.   Then New York's biggest kingpin collapsed onto the pavement next to yesterday's garbage, stone dead.   For a moment Clara stood there unable to process the sight.   She had just killed a man. 

                John's groan snapped her back to reality.   He was leaning against the wall, hand pressed to his shoulder.  She could see the blood between his fingers.  One of Saxon's stray bullets found a mark. 

                "You've been shot."

                He chuckled, sarcastic even while in pain.  "I noticed thanks."

                "Oh my god, Doctor!" Amy dashed to their side.  She appeared unharmed just shaken. 

                "It's only my shoulder I'll be fine." he assured, "Hell; I might even get a medal."

                Clara smiled and rolled her eyes.  "For what? I did all the work."

                "Hey, bullet wound." John said.  He glanced over at Saxon's body, "I'm gonna have to call my Sergeant.  Amy, you should get out of here; you've got a train to catch."

                "But-"

                "But nothing.  This is your chance to get out of this city, don’t miss it."  He fished keys out of his pocket and pressed them into her hand.  "Leave 'em in the glove compartment and I'll call you once this all blows over."   

                "Thank you for everything." Amy said kissing him on the cheek.  She hugged Clara, "And I think you just saved my life."

                "All part of the job."

                Amy grinned then disappeared down the alley into the darkness.  An engine revved to life taking the girl back home.  The Songbird was finally free from her cage.

                John called into his station and pretty soon the area was swarming with uniforms.  Saxon's body was hauled off to the morgue and his goons were arrested pending charges.   Everyone rushed around taking statements and collecting evidence.  This promised to be the biggest headline since the war ended.

                Clara was recounting the events of the night to an officer when she saw John get dragged protesting into an ambulance.  He kept saying he didn't need a hospital.  As the car doors swung closed their eyes caught and he winked at her.  Clara couldn’t help laughing at his cheek.   That was one ridiculous man, handsome and heroic, but ridiculous.

 

**-Two Months Later-**

 

                "I've got a new case." Clara said.  Her sheer robe trailed behind her. 

                "Is that why the telephone rang at the crack of dawn?" John asked.  He was lying in bed waiting for her to return. 

                She grinned diving into his arms, "Like it bothered you; the world could be ending and you wouldn't crack an eyelid."

                "I feel like you're insulting me but I can't figure out how."

                "I would never do that." Clara teased.  She kissed the smooth scar on his shoulder. 

                John laughed, "Of course not." 

                He captured her mouth with his.  Together they fell back against the pillows and soon forgot everything else.   Maybe love wasn't dead in New York City after all.  

               


End file.
